Media with questions about this Marine can call the 2nd Marine Division
Public Affairs Office at (910) 451-9033.
October 27, 2005:

The widow of Lance Corporal Norman W. Anderson
III told about 400 mourners at his funeral service last night that she
was not bitter about how he died in Iraq -- less than three months after
their wedding.

"His job being a Marine had a part of his heart
I would never have," Tori Anderson said, standing beside her husband's
flag-draped casket. They had many talks, she said, and he would often tell
her, "They need me more over there than you need me over here."

Corporal Anderson, 21, of Parkton, Maryland,
was killed October 19, 2005, when a suicide car bomb detonated near him
as he carried out a military mission in Karabilah. Assigned to the 3rd
Battalion, 6th Marine Regiment, 2nd Marine Division based at Camp Lejeune,
North Carolina, he had been in Iraq for about a month, according to the
Department of Defense.

He is to be buried at 2 p.m. Tuesday at Arlington
National Cemetery.

Last night's service was held at a funeral
home in northern Baltimore County, less than a mile from Hereford High
School, where Corporal Anderson starred as a running back on the football
team. The school is retiring his No. 33 jersey and has started a scholarship
fund in his name.

The son of a retired Army Ranger, Corporal
Anderson had wanted to serve in the military since early childhood, his
family said last night.

"This was what Norman wanted to do," his mother,
Robyn Anderson, told the gathering.

She described her son as a devoted Marine who
would have been both "mortified and honored" by last night's service.

So many people showed up at the Henry W. Jenkins
& Sons funeral home that some mourners stood in side rooms and the
lobby, listening to the service through speakers.

The crowd in the lobby included a woman holding
a wallet-size photo of Corporal Anderson, and a man with reddened eyes
standing quietly in military dress blues with a white hat in his hand.

Robyn Anderson said she received a call Sunday
from a woman whose grandson died while serving with the Marines in Afghanistan.

"The sacrifice of a Marine is the highest human
action," she said, quoting from a letter she received from neighbors. She
also quoted from a card she wrote to her son: "I remember your first steps
and your bright eyes were fixed on me."

Corporal Anderson graduated from Hereford in
2002 and enlisted in the Marines that year.

He joined his division as a rifleman in June
2003, and was deployed to Afghanistan. When he returned in November, "You
could really see a difference in him," said his father, Norman Anderson
Jr., adding that his son became much more concerned about his family's
well-being.

"As a father, you wonder, 'What kind of father
is he going to be?'" he said.

Pointing out that his son was in charge of
some of his fellow Marines and recognized for leadership during ambushes
in Afghanistan, he said, "He proved to me what kind of father he was."

Corporal Anderson and his wife, the former
Tori Worthing, had been high school sweethearts. They married in August
near Hunt Valley and honeymooned in Baltimore.

"Norman is the reason I got up every morning,"
she said, and added that she spoke to Anderson the day before he died.

"He told me he loved me and his family and
that he was proud of me," she said.

Final Journey Norm Anderson funeral draws more than
150 from North County to Arlington, Virginia10 November 2005By Pat van den Beemt

Motorcycle police officers escort the funeral
cortege of Norman Anderson III, includding two buses carrying more than
150 family members and friends, south on Interstate 83 toward Arlington.

Motorists along the 75-mile route from Hereford
to Arlington, Virginia, watched solemnly from their stopped vehicles as
the funeral procession for Lance Corporal Norman W. Anderson III passed
by on the morning of November 1, 2005.

Highway entrance ramps were temporarily closed.
Some cars already on the roadway pulled to the side. Others switched lanes
to allow the motorcade to pass.

Two columns of motorcycles flashed red and
blue lights as more than a dozen police officers cleared the way for a
hearse, two buses and a long line of cars.

"I wonder if they think this is for some sort
of dignitary," Cyndi Hafele asked as she watched stopped traffic from inside
the first bus.

Anderson, a 21-year-old Marine, was killed
by a suicide bomber in Iraq October 19, 2005. The 2002 Hereford High School
football player had married Tori Worthing of Monkton this summer, a few
weeks before he was deployed to Iraq.

Before he shipped out, Anderson left specific
instructions for his funeral arrangements if he didn't make it home. He
wanted to be cremated, and he wanted to be buried in Arlington National
Cemetery.

On November 1, 2005, Anderson's wishes were
honored. He joined the 300,000 men and women who are buried at Arlington.
His funeral was the 20th of 29 funerals that day.

More than 150 people in the buses and cars
followed the hearse carrying Anderson's remains to Arlington.

The sight of acres of white marble headstones
in perfect lines silenced the low hum of conversation on the bus carrying
the Anderson and Worthing families.

Since the police escort accelerated the trip,
the group had about 90 minutes to wait near the Visitors' Center before
the funeral began. People talked in clusters or simply stood outside in
the warm November sun.

There were relatives like Matthew Bauer who
traveled from South Africa to say goodbye to his cousin. Like many in the
Anderson family - including Norman Anderson's father and grandfather -
Bauer served in the military.

After graduating from Hereford High in 1998,
Bauer joined the Marines. He was stationed in South Africa, met and married
a South African woman and now lives there.

"As soon as we heard about Norm, we looked
into the logistics of coming home," he said. "There was no way I was not
going to be here today."

Others, like Reb Scavone of Freeland, didn't
know the Andersons or the Worthings. He said he wanted to attend the funeral
to pay tribute to a brave man who gave the ultimate sacrifice for his country.

Michael Newmeyer, owner of Michael's Pizza,
was there to pay his respects, too. He knows Norman Anderson's older sister,
Brooke, who once worked at his pizza shop on York Road in Maryland Line.

Four Hereford High students, members of the
For Our Troops Club, left school early to go to Arlington. Their club sends
packages and letters to servicemen and women who have a Hereford High connection
and are serving in Iraq or Afghanistan.

Tori Anderson had helped the club with a fundraiser
earlier this year. She showed up at Hereford High the day after her husband's
death.

"She came to our club meeting and told us how
much the soldiers appreciated what we were doing," said president Courtney
Sullins. "We couldn't believe she came to school to talk to us. Everybody
was crying, but she kept saying she wanted to be there, to tell us to keep
sending things to the soldiers."

Service and sacrifice

The wait was finally over at 1:45 p.m., when
people boarded the buses and got in their cars for the slow drive to Anderson's
final resting place. As the crowd watched, two Marines carefully placed
an engraved wooden box containing Anderson's ashes on a small table next
to his gravesite. They joined four other Marines in unfolding an American
flag and holding it over the box during the service.

"The nation and the Corps will remember Lance
Corporal Anderson for his service and sacrifice," a Marine chaplain told
the mourners.

The six Marines then ceremoniously folded the
American flag. Master Sergeant Leonard Cloud presented it to Anderson's
widow. Captain Ed Caricato gave another to Anderson's mother, Robyn.

Many in the crowd flinched when the first volley
of shots was fired by seven Marines off in the distance. The men fired
three times in precision for the 21-gun salute.

As feather-shaped leaves from a willow oak
floated down on the mourners, a lone Marine played "Taps" on a bugle. He
stood off to the side, away from the gravesite, so most people weren't
aware of his presence until the first notes of the heart-tugging tune filled
the air.

After the 15-minute ceremony, people went back
to the buses and cars to give Anderson's parents, sister and widow a chance
for a private farewell.

As she and Robyn Anderson slowly made their
way to the buses, they clutched their American flags to their chests.

The bus containing the Anderson and Worthing
families and friends was soundless as they left Arlington National Cemetery.
Row after row of family members and friends stared out the windows, lost
in thought.

Shared memories

But as the bus gathered speed and headed toward
North County, the atmosphere lightened. It had been a long day. People
were hungry and thirsty.

Coolers with soda, water, beer and wine appeared.
Boxes of chips and peanuts were passed from seat to seat.

People started moving along the aisles. People
started talking. People started laughing.

Tori Anderson told stories about her high school
days with Norm, how teachers separated them if they were having a spat
but let them sit next to each other if they were having a good day.

The two mothers, Bernadette Worthing and Robyn
Anderson, sat next to each other and chatted.

Norm's father, Norman Anderson II, moved to
the back of the bus, where there was a rumor about an open bottle of Irish
whiskey.

Just before the procession arrived back in
Hereford, Bob Vogel, a longtime friend of the Andersons, got everybody's
attention.

"I raise my glass to Norm, a hero who always
had a smile on his face," he said. The others responded by raising their
glasses, cans, bottles or empty hands into the air and called out, in unison,
"To Norm."

Sacrificing allWar in Iraq, Afghanistan has claimed ex-athletes by Mike KlingamanCourtesy of the Baltimore Sun16 July 2007

Some starred on their high school athletic
teams. Some barely received any playing time. But each served his country
and died in Iraq or Afghanistan.

A former swim team star was killed while defusing
a roadside bomb; a one-time running back sacrificed himself so that his
comrades might live. During one 14-month period in 2005-2006, at least
six former athletes from Baltimore-area high schools -- Marines, sailors
and soldiers -- died in the war. The eldest was 31 years old, the youngest
20.

To a man, they carried with them overseas the
love of sport. And though they did not return, their schools, teammates
and families will not forget their courage on and off the field.

Norman Anderson III was a stalwart running
back, Josh Snyder a selfless receiver. Their
framed jerseys hang ceremoniously on a wall in the Hereford High gym, but
not for obvious reasons.

"No one will ever wear these numbers [33 and
26] again," coach Steve Turnbaugh said of the first jerseys retired in
Hereford history. "Maybe these two weren't the best players ever, but they
certainly proved their heroism in a far larger scheme than football."

Nearly two years have passed since Anderson
and Snyder, both Marines, died in the war in Iraq. Anderson was killed
by a suicide car bomber, Snyder by a sniper six weeks later. Buddies, they
enlisted together and are buried at Arlington National Cemetery, 75 graves
apart.

Their granite-faced military photographs, draped
in black, still grace the bulletin board in Hereford's football office.
Both men -- Anderson was 21, Snyder a year younger-- played for the school's
2001 state champions.

Even overseas, neither forgot his roots.Anderson
carried videotapes of Hereford's magical season and showed them proudly
to his comrades.

"Yeah, we all saw the tapes," said Jed Maki,
who served alongside Anderson in Iraq and Afghanistan. "We had to laugh
at the scrawny little guy Norman was in high school. He had bulked up in
size since then."

Maki said that once, during a lull, Anderson's
unit challenged a group of Iraqi soldiers to a football game on base.

"We killed them," Maki said. "Norman had a
few touchdowns, a few interceptions. He was always willing to get his nose
a little dirty."

Half a world away, engulfed in war, Anderson
managed to stay abreast of his high school team's games.

"For a while, we mailed him The Sun," said
his mother, Robyn Anderson. "But in his final letter he wrote, 'Just send
me the sports section.'

"I guess he figured he was seeing enough of
the headline stuff over there."

Football and fatigues had always been Norman
Anderson's passions. At Hereford, if he didn't have playbook in hand, it
was a history text about World War II. Teammates applauded his relentless
rushing style and dubbed him "Stormin' Norman," after General Norman Schwarzkopf,
commander in the Gulf War in 1991.

Anderson relished the comparison.

"Finally, we just called him 'Storm,' " Turnbaugh
said.

Joining the Marines fueled Anderson's competitive
nature, Maki said.

"Sports tied in with our everyday life," he
said. "Marines wrestle to let off steam. Norman would wrestle anyone, anywhere
-- on grass or rocks, in rooms or rivers. Norman would come out bloody,
but the other person was always bloodier."

On Oct. 19, 2005 -- the day he died -- Anderson,
a lance corporal, volunteered to take the point on a morning patrol near
his unit's base in the town of Sadah, near the Syrian border. From an alley,
a maroon Chevrolet Caprice filled with explosives hurtled toward the Marines.

Anderson dashed toward the car -- "You could
tell he was a running back," a Marine said later -- and shot and killed
the driver. But the vehicle was apparently rigged to detonate if the driver
died.

The fireball killed Anderson and wounded four
others. The explosion hurled the car's engine block 50 yards and might
have wiped out the 16-man patrol had not Anderson distanced himself from
the other Marines.

"If Norm hadn't done what he did, a lot more
guys would have lost their lives," said Sergeant James Ryan Thornton, his
squad leader.

News of Anderson's death rocked Hereford High,
which held a memorial service two days later at a home football game. For
the rest of that 2005 season, the players -- few of whom knew Anderson
personally -- wore decals with the initials "NA" on their helmets.

"Once a Hereford Bull, always a Hereford Bull,"
Turnbaugh said.

The next month, Anderson's high school teammate
was slain. Corporal Josh Snyder was shot in the aftermath of a skirmish
in Fallujah, Iraq. Marines killed the assassin.

Two months earlier, while home on leave, Snyder
had dropped by Hereford during football practice.

"He was wearing his [military] uniform, and
he seemed awful proud," Turnbaugh said.

Like Anderson, Snyder chose to join the Marines
long before graduation.

"When you saw them working in the [school's]
weight room, you knew they were getting ready for boot camp as well as
for football," the coach said.

When a bum knee sidelined Snyder as a senior,
he volunteered as a coach's aide. He so impressed the staff that, in a
rarity after the 2001 championship, Snyder was presented with his personal
jersey (each member of the Hereford team has several uniforms).

After her son's death, Snyder's mother returned
the jersey to the coach. Turnbaugh had No. 26 framed, and it now hangs
by itself at the entrance to his family room.

Why, of the hundreds of young men who have
played for him, did Turnbaugh choose Snyder's jersey to place in his home?

Maybe it was the conversation Snyder's mother
related to the coach as she handed him the jersey.

Before his deployment in 2004, Snyder and his
mother sat on the porch swing of their Hampstead home on a warm August
day and spoke of the future.

"He talked of what could happen and the things
he wanted done," Doris Snyder said.

"And then Josh said, 'If you don't remember
anything else, make sure you return my championship jersey to Coach Turnbaugh.
He has done so much for me that I want him to have it.' "